


Loneliness, Love

by irisbleufic



Series: Delicate, Dangerous, Obsessed [11]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Awkward Romance, Canon Autistic Character, Canon Character of Color, Confirmation, Conflicted Emotions, Developing Relationship, Friendship, Friendship/Love, M/M, Male Character of Color, Neurodiversity, POV Lucius Fox, Police, Puzzles, Reading People When You're Autistic Sucks, Riddles, Texting, Uncertainty, Whiskey & Scotch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 22:04:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11170998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irisbleufic/pseuds/irisbleufic
Summary: “Nygma's compulsions get the better of him at every turn,” Lucius said, gathering his thoughts in spite of how rattled Harvey's driving habits had rendered him. “It's only a matter of time before he slips.”“Six people are dead, seven if you count Thirio,” Harvey reminded him, “and three more are still recovering from Chessapalooza. This guy's a cop-killer, Fox, whether he did time in Arkham or not.”[Immediately followsWYFIR #24; Lucius Fox POV, set the same night as one of the other bonus ficlets,Scars.]





	Loneliness, Love

Weary with Captain Bullock's questioning, head pounding from the knock-out gas, Lucius accepted a ride home. He didn't want to think about how long it would be until he got his car back from the rest of Forensics, never mind that they likely wouldn't find anything useful in the back seat.

He'd retained the black blindfold, insisting that he would analyze it himself first thing in the morning.

“Are you sure you're gonna be all right?” Harvey asked as he led Lucius out into the brisk, star-pierced twilight. “Want me to hang around a while once I get you home? I've got some scotch in the car.”

“Thanks, but I have scotch at home,” Lucius insisted, letting Harvey open the front door of the car for him. “I'm almost sorry to have to tell you this, but it's a damn sight better than yours.”

“That's fair,” Harvey said before closing the door, making his way around the front of the car, and getting in the driver's side. “Jesus Christ. You sure you wanna keep insisting you don't know who it was? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I can make an educated guess. And I haven't got half the number of degrees you've got hanging on your wall, much less half of your smarts.”

 _Loneliness_ , Lucius thought as Harvey started up the car. _An individual, a reflection_.

“You and I both know we can't go after Nygma without hard evidence,” he said, pensively subdued.

“I wish the riddles were enough,” Harvey muttered as he drove. “Talk about the shittiest of shit luck.”

Lucius shook his head, fingers curled against his chin as he rested his forearm against the window.

“He admitted to killing Gotham's best and brightest,” he said. “Yesterday. That call we couldn't trace.”

“You know he probably did it because they bad-mouthed Penguin in the papers,” Harvey replied, laying hard on his horn at the intersection, the sound deafening. “Hell, they insulted both of 'em.”

“Nygma's compulsions get the better of him at every turn,” Lucius said, gathering his thoughts in spite of how rattled Harvey's driving habits had rendered him. “It's only a matter of time before he slips.”

“Six people are dead, seven if you count Thirio,” Harvey reminded him, “and three more are still recovering from Chessapalooza. This guy's a cop-killer, Fox, whether he did time in Arkham or not.”

Lucius ran his thumb idly across his lips, glancing down as his phone lit up unexpectedly in his lap.

 _I promised I'd let you know if there was any change_ , it read, _but he still isn't himself_.

“I'm aware of that,” he said halfheartedly, typing all the while, _Has he turned in for the evening?_

“I understand why you might feel sorry for him,” said Harvey, glancing sidelong at Lucius with a kind of sympathy. “Birds of a feather and all that. Listen, I get it. We've all been there. But you can't...”

“This situation is puzzling,” Lucius replied, counting the seconds from the moment he hit _SEND_. “He seemed stable when I dropped off that box back in November. Even happy.”

“We're lucky Penguin even managed to keep him under control for _this_ long,” Harvey sighed.

“I don't think control has anything to do with it,” Lucius admitted. “Cobblepot sees them as equals, but the fact of Nygma's acting out beyond that string of killings suggests maybe _Nygma_ does not.”

 _An hour ago_ , came the next reply. _Isn't as if I trust him to stay in bed, but what can I do?_

“Did Jim tell you,” Harvey ventured, “that he was in Tierney's office when she and Bam Bam married them? Total fluke. Of all the days he had to run errands, go figure. Says he ran into our old friends Aragon and Fowler while he was at it. Zsasz, too. They're all working for Penguin.”

 _Afraid I can't help much with that_ , Lucius replied. _I need to see you. We need to talk._

 _If you can come around tonight, do,_  read the response. _Or shall I send a car after you?_

“Are you even paying attention to a single word I'm saying?” asked Harvey, warily. “Who's that?”

“It's not important,” Lucius said slowly, “but, as it happens, I need a ride out to the Palisades instead.”

“Guess you do spend a lot of time at Wayne Manor, huh,” said Harvey, moodily changing direction.

“Being on-call tech support to a boy billionaire has its perks,” Lucius lied smoothly. “I like the pay.”

“Whatever Bruce broke this time, it had better be good,” Harvey sighed. “Fine. I'll take you out there. Don't bother coming in first thing tomorrow; take the day off. You've had a rough time this week.”

“I got out of this evening's situation with my life and a scratch,” Lucius reassured him. “I'll be fine.”

 _Be there in fifteen minutes if traffic cooperates_ , he typed back. _I was already in transit._

“You kids and your cell phones,” Harvey muttered. “Even Jim's gotta check his every five minutes.”

 _A reflection_ , Lucius thought, cycling the answers again. _An individual. Loneliness._

“I'm given to understand that this is more polite than making a call,” he said tiredly. “Just drive.”

When they arrived twenty minutes later, the gates of Wayne Manor were closed. Harvey was reluctant to leave, but Lucius insisted that someone would receive him shortly. He was, after all, expected.

“I don't know why you and Jim are so willing to jump when the butler asks how high,” Harvey said, saluting as he began to close the windows. “Instead of waste GCPD resources, they should hire a P.I.”

“Jim's loyalty to Bruce is understandable,” said Lucius, returning the gesture. “Good night, Captain.”

“Yeah, but aside from money,” said Harvey, as he drove off, “I don't get yours at _all_. 'Night.”

Lucius watched Harvey's car vanish down the lane, unsurprised to hear the front door and the steady crunch of gravel behind him as soon as the hum of the engine had faded. He turned back to the gate, helping himself to the key-pad. Creaking magnificently, it opened before him.

The figure waiting for Lucius hadn't even bothered with a coat, white shirt-sleeves stark in the gloom.

“About bloody time,” said Alfred, motionless as Lucius approached. “Need some dosh for the cab?”

“Captain Bullock drove me out,” Lucius explained, satisfied to hear the gate creak shut behind him, the mechanism's process complete. “He was in the process of taking me home when your text arrived.”

Alfred nodded—once, curtly—his arresting features cast in shadow by the mansion's exterior lighting.

“I'm glad the old team's looking out for you, at least,” he said, too softly. “Bullock and Gordon both.”

 _Loneliness_ , Lucius thought, struck by the depth of feeling he harbored for this man. _Love_.

“Yesterday's chess-tournament fiasco wasn't the end of it,” he told Alfred, reaching to set a hand on his shoulder, hesitant even in light of several months' encounters beyond the professional. “The killer blindfolded and held me hostage in my car. Used garden-variety knock-out gas to escape.”

Alfred's eyes widened, softening, luminous with concern so great Lucius imagined it might spill over.

“Let's get you inside, then, shall we?” Alfred said, reaching for him as if he regretted not doing it from the start. Alfred's warm, expressive hand came to rest against Lucius's cheek. “I've got a bottle of Glen Moray twenty-two-year with our name on it. Just tried some.”

“Your single malt's always a damn sight better than _mine_ ,” said Lucius, admiringly, indulging the joke even though Alfred hadn't been party to it. “I'm partial to the small-batch gin, too.”

Alfred's smile, weary as it was, illuminated the space between them with what it mirrored back.

 _A reflection_ , Lucius thought, losing himself in the taste of Alfred's kiss, doubts shed at last.


End file.
